Barbird
by turbomagnus
Summary: :Steel Brigade: What happens when a General visits his team... in the O Club.


As much as it screws with continuality, the team was NOT disbanded in this story. Instead, at the fall of Cobra in the early nineties, Destro and the Baroness pulled out and went legit, providing funding and occasional equipment for the Joe team through M.A.R.S., mainly because Destro and Hawk saw a common enemy in the Jugglers. So, as you can guess, it doesn't fit in the official canon or my own usual canon. I own Turbo and that's it, the rest is Hasbro's. I have to give thanks to Slayne and Desert Fox for introducing me to BH/CG and to them and all the others on the Joeland list for their feedback.

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"Barbird"  
By: J.T. Magnus, "Turbo"

* * *

General Clayton Abernathy, known to many as "Hawk" walked into what was six days a week the Pit's mess hall. Unfortunately, this was that seventh day and Roadblock and one of the Steel Brigade members, a Georgia boy that went by Turbo, had turned it into an Officer/Enlisted's Club for the night... He wasn't sure how Psyche-Out and they had convinced him to allow this, but at least morale was high...

The dartboard had been taken from the lounge and hung on a wall a little ways away from a jukebox that Hawk didn't even want to know how Shipwreck got, and opposite them, in front of the kitchen, tables had been arranged into a makeshift bar. The other table were scattered throughout the 'club,' and at one of them was a sight that even twenty years of fighting Cobra couldn't beat in strangeness. Pulling up a seat at the 'bar,' he told one of the three bartenders, Turbo, so.

"Sorry, sir, I don't understand. How is Beach and Cov' weird?"

Psych-out stepped up from down the bar and joined in, "Turbo, you need to understand, the general is used to dealing with a lot of things, but lovesick teenagers isn't one of them."

"It sounds like the two of you have something you need to tell me, talk."

Turbo walked into the kitchen and returned a few moments later with a beer that he sat down in front of Hawk, "You're probably gonna need this, sir."

"That bad, soldier?"

"Not bad, sir, just thought you might want something to wash it all down with."

With a twist of the cap and a hiss of air, Hawk commented, "Wise."

"Large family, General, strange things don't phase me and dealing with them comes easy."

"Beachhead and Cover Girl with anyone else probably wouldn't work." Psych-out started.

Turbo downed some grape juice from his glass, "Think of them, if you will, as metals. Now if those metals come in contact with paper, wood, etc. the other will just burn up. A relationship between either and someone more... less determined wouldn't last."

"Ok, I see what the two of you are saying, but still, Beachhead and Cover Girl?"

"Hawk, could you really see Beachhead with any woman who couldn't take his crap and give back just as good? Same thing for Cover Girl."

Hawk thought about Psych-Out's words, the psychological operations specialist/psychiatrist was right, the two of them did give and take each other's comments better than anyone else on the team. But that didn't mean much, did it?

"But Beachhead and Cover Girl, Cover Girl and Beachhead?"

Turbo shrugged, "Not all metals become alloys when they're melted together, they simply become two separate metals that make up one piece of metal. Beach and Cov' are metals that when put together, when things begin to heat up, become an alloy, each eliminating or at least counteracting the others' faults and problems, combining completely into a single cohesive whole, unbreakable, with the two beginning parts unable to be separated."

"What were you before joining the reserves, Turbo?"

"Officially, Sir, I joined right out of high school."

"Unofficially?"

"I've done a lot of things in my life, write, learned to use bladed weapons, learned to shoot, taught myself to absorb damage, I love the military, Sir. I love what soldiers do, I might not be the fastest or strongest, but being in Steel Brigade means I don't have to be the best, just good at what I do. I don't have to be any specific specialty; I can be psych-ops, heavy weapons, silent weapons, driver... To me it's fun, better than working in an office or store, and I know that even if my teammates don't like me, they'll still cover me because we're a unit."

"I can see why Beachhead actually said that you were just horrible instead of pathetic. At least tell me you use deodorant..."

"Actually, sir, not always."

Both Hawk and Psych-out grimaced.

"Oh yeah," the psychiatrist commented, "no wonder Beachhead thinks highly of you."

"Respectfully, Sirs, you start making comments about how I smell, I start in on your ages."

"Very nice, trooper, you might just last."

"To finish with what we were talking about, General, each Joe is a slightly different metal. Flint and Lady Jaye are together because their "metals" alloy with each other if not with others on the team. Same for Scarlett and Snake-eyes, and thus it's the same for Beach and Cov', they make a good couple because they make a good whole."

Hawk finished his beer and stood up, "Thank you, for both the beer and the talk. Sometimes it helps to forget about being the general."

"No problem, sir."

At the door, Hawk paused and thought... Sometimes it helps to forget about being the general... He hadn't done anything like this since he was an enlisted man, but sometimes even a general had to have a little fun.

Turning towards the table where Beachhead and Cover Girl were sitting, he asked loud enough to be heard over the sounds of the 'club,' "Sergeant, Corporal, when's the wedding?"

He left the mess hall/club to the sounds of sputtering from the two and laughter from everyone else.


End file.
